


Unlucky Drabbles

by UnluckyWrench



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hairbrush, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 04:37:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15923015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyWrench/pseuds/UnluckyWrench
Summary: Just a collection of drabbles and ficlets used as writing exercise.





	Unlucky Drabbles

“Gabe, c’mon please,” Sam pleaded as he tested the straps keeping his arms and legs together.  He was laid out on one of the leather sofas in the bunker, with his bare feet hanging over the arm.  The bindings were an obnoxiously bright pink leather that crisscrossed his torso and held him immobile yet expanded and contracted as he breathed.  Sam knew he was in trouble for making fun of Gabriel, but he didn’t think it’d end like this.  “I said I’m sorry.  Can’t you let it go just this once?”

Even from five feet away, Gabriel still managed to loom.  Gabriel sat across the room in an armchair, one leg crossed over his knee and fingers steepled in contemplation. He watched Sam squirm, taking in his reactions the same way a sommelier would taste a rare vintage , and allowed himself a quick sip of the surface emotions and thoughts going through his mind – a sweet mélange of excitement and apprehension.  Oh yes, Sam was sorry now, but when Gabriel was through, he’d be a blubbing ball of contrition. His gaze stopped at the end of the sofa, and he gave a gentle smirk as Sam tried to hide his feet from Gabriel’s gaze.

“Afraid not, Sam.  You broke a commandment today.  What kind of angel would I be if I let that go unpunished?”

The room suddenly felt much more crowded as the archangel’s presence filled it up.  For a moment, by the way Gabriel was resonating power, Sam thought he had actually broken a commandment and Gabriel was about to become a wrathful archangel, not Sam’s rakish lover.  He looked into Gabriel’s whiskey eyes and got one of his signature winks.  Sam’s shoulders relaxed a bit when he realized he wasn’t about to be smote.  His shoulders tensed again as he watched Gabriel materialized a flat paddle hairbrush and began balancing it on the tip of one finger.

“Which one?” Sam played along, with half nervousness and half anticipation for his just desserts.  He had a feeling that Gabe’s punishment wouldn’t be a bad hairstyle.  Already the specter of boar hair bristles against tender flesh was making him writhe in his bindings.

“Thou shalt not insult an angel’s hair.”

In hindsight, Sam should have known better, but it wasn’t his fault!  Gabriel’s hair was golden and beautiful.  With it always being perfectly trimmed, shiny, and smelling like vanilla, Sam was sure it was magic.  How was he to know that Gabriel spent nearly an hour in the morning styling it the old-fashioned way? And, yes, when Gabe asked to borrow his hairbrush, Sam could have been more gracious and not mocked him for owning one, but was it really worth all this?  He was about to apologize when he heard the snap.

While Gabriel lounged in the same spot across the room, the hairbrush he had been holding earlier was now floating in midair at Sam’s feet.  The brush moved up and down both taut soles, in an agonizingly slow motion.

“No, no, no please!” Sam managed before he was engulfed by gasping laughter.

“Just a little something to help you brush up on your manners,Sammich.”  The archangel chuckled at his own wit, then directed the brush to keep the strokes light and teasing.  After all, this wasn’t a true punishment. As a couple, they did love their games, but he’d be lying if he said part of him wasn’t the tiniest bit annoyed at Sam.  He was so tall and smart; the kid was physical perfection… and he didn’t even have to work at styling his hair?  Dad certainly had a sense of humor.  He increased the pressure of the brush just a bit, for good measure.

“Sorry!  I’m sorry!” Sam bit out through helpless giggles.  Gabriel just smiled and reclined in the chair.

“Don’t worry, Sammikins,” Gabriel said, turning the television to Dr. Sexy with the flick of his wrist. “The brush will stop when it finishes my usual beauty treatment.”

“H-how lohohong?” Sam bit out with some effort.  The bristles poked the tender spaces between his toes and he as losing composure.  

“Only a thousand strokes a night,” Gabriel crowed and materialized himself a bowl of caramel corn.  He happily munched away as Sam’s eyes began to water with laughter.  As his hunter threw his head back on the cushy arm of the sofa, Gabriel had no doubt he would learn his lesson well.  For the next week, anyway.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Strings for proofreading for me! :)


End file.
